


Accident

by fanfiction_trashpile



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-25 09:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22093720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanfiction_trashpile/pseuds/fanfiction_trashpile
Summary: He didn't mean to.
Relationships: Malcolm Bright/Reader
Kudos: 51





	Accident

Splitting pain. Screaming. You can’t tell if it’s you or someone else. 

You wake on the ground, coughing on your own blood. One of your eyes feels as though someone has stuck a hot knife in it. 

Can’t breathe. Can’t breathe. 

Darkness. 

Slow, methodic beeping. Like a metronome. Except unpleasant and smelling of bleach. 

A nurse comes to give you the report. You got hit. Your nose is broken, and the blood got into your eyes. You are probably concussed, but no permanent damage. 

“Can I see Malcolm?” He’s not here. 

“Is anyone here?” Gil is.

“Can I see him?” Yes. One moment please. 

Gil looks exhausted, but he grins when he sees you, “You look like hell.” 

“Thanks.” You try to smile, “Where’s Malcolm?” 

Gil’s grin goes stony, “We don’t know. He called an ambulance for you.” 

“What happened?” 

“We were hoping you could answer that.”

“I was asleep.”

A voice from the hall: “It was my fault.”

Malcolm. 

He is standing in the doorway, covered in blood, his hair matted and standing on end. Frankly, he looks like hell. 

“What do you mean?” Gill moves between the two of you. Protecting you? From Malcolm?

“Nightmare. My restraint came loose. I… I hit her. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so—“ 

“Malcolm, it’s okay.” Gil waves a hand at you, silencing you. 

“I thought you had it under control.” Gil’s tone is too even. It’s unnerving. Or maybe that’s just the pain meds. 

You can’t see Malcolm, but you hear his defeated tone, “No. No, not under control.” 

“Gil, it’s fine.” Once again, shushed by his hand. 

Your head hurts. 

“I don’t want you near her.” 

“That’s not your call.” You try to shout, but it comes out strangled. 

“I don’t disagree.” Malcolm sounds like he’s been crying. 

Everything hurts. 

“Malcolm!” 

He’s gone. 


End file.
